


Pencil Me Into Your Dance Card

by orphan_account



Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey, Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie (2017)
Genre: 80's Music, Egg Casserole, F/M, School Dances, and probably a smattering of other characters too, oh ho ho here we go!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-23 22:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jerome Horwitz Elementary School's 80's themed dance fundraiser is less than four hours away, and Benjamin Krupp is not looking forward to it. It's going to be like it always is; a night full of screaming children hopped up on sugar running around while electric power ballads scream over the gymnasium loudspeakers.Worse still, it appears as though he accidentally asked Edith to attend with him.Mind you, he can't dance.(But, and if only for a get-out-of-detention-free-card, George and Harold are willing to help.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oooooh my god.  
> So okay.  
> This was a blast. It started with Rigamaroo's idea here - https://rabbitkinder.tumblr.com/post/172550578576/storyline-idea-for-the-cartoon - of Krupp accidentally asking Edith out/ Edith percieving Krupp to have asked her out to the school's 80's themed dance, but the boy can't dance. George and Harold would then end up 'trying to help him out' (see: heckling him once they find out what happened and forcing their help upon him in the hope of getting a get-out-of-jail-free card) and the subsequent chaos that would ensue.  
> I haven't written anything just for me in a while, so I thought this would be fun. Rigamaroo was kind enough to let me write out the idea, and they've been betaing to catch small issues as I go. It's been really fun to do this. I can't see this going much beyond 4 chapters, but who knows- I might go too far again XD  
> Anyway- hope you enjoy!

      Benjamin Krupp stared lazily out his office window, head propped by one hand while the other slowly rolled and unrolled the edge of a field trip permission slip he was supposed to give feedback on. He yawned, eyes watering as he continued to watch a pigeon watch him back from its perch atop one of the parking lot lightposts as wafting clouds of pollen drifted aimlessly between the two of them, staining everything outside a faint yellow. Ben’s throat itched, and his eyes burned, but he wouldn’t be beaten by a flying rat, no. He’d backed down from too many things today. This was not going to be added to the list. He was not about to be made uncomfortable by the dull-eyed ogling of a stupid, stupid bird. If that thing was going to stare at him, then he was going to stare back, and that was the end of it.

      However, the end was a long time coming. Neither of them had moved in the last three minutes. Slowly though, very slowly, the feathers on the pigeon’s neck started to prickle, the tail started to lift. For a moment, Ben thought he had won, until with an almighty ‘ping’ he realized all it did was poop.

      Directly onto his car right below it.  

      Ben made a face and reached for a spare chunk eraser with full intentions of throwing it at the pigeon when the dismissal bell rang. Startled, he shot forward, his fist smashing the button for the loudspeaker far harder than necessary. Ben felt the brittle plastic crack under his hand as he yelled into the microphone, “This is your reminder that any students interested in running for council need to pick up a form from Miss. Zingerbrains in the library. They are due back no later than next Wednesday.”

      It all came out in a rush, and he wasn’t entirely sure if anyone could understand what he was saying, but really, at this point, it didn’t matter. Ben shifted his weight to his forearm as he shuffled about his desk drawer blindly before grabbing a cassette player, fiddling with the volume while he continued, “Also, those of you who owe the library money for late or lost books must hand that in or you will not get your report cards. Lunch tomorrow will be green beans, corn, and sausage patties.”

      “And finally,” he sighed, screwing his eyes shut as he readied the tape player with all the delicacy of handling a ticking bomb, “The 80’s themed dance is going to be held tonight, this Friday, in the gymnasium. Tickets are three dollars early and five at the door. If you are interested in attending, you can buy them at the front office from Ms. Anthrope.”

      Moving fast, he hit play on the machine and slid it to rest on the button. In an instant, Van Halen’s guitar was blasting out of every speaker in the school so loudly that all of them screeched in unison until Ben turned the volume down. Cursing quietly and rubbing his ears, he made his way out of his office and through Anthrope’s clutter to take his position at the top of the stairwell. Around him, students rushed out of their classes, moving like a sea of salmon towards freedom as they screamed and jumped and clawed for the exit. Ben shut his eyes, preparing himself for one last day of total ear-splitting dissonance, then-

      “Marcus! Get that pencil out of your nose,-”

_Ah, can't you see me standin' here_

      “-and Marcy, don’t you dare encourage him! Yasmin, what have I told you-”

_I got my back against the record machine_

      “-about gum in this school! Nick, you get- young man- you get your hands out of her backpack-”

_I ain't the worst that you've seen_

      “-this instant! Kevin! Give me that slingshot!”

_Ah, can't you see what I mean?_

      “Right now bub! Right here! Hand it over!”

_Ah, might as well jump_

      A disgruntled looking third grader reluctantly held out the amalgamation of broken pencils, rubber bands, and enough scotch tape to strap an overweight weiner dog to the ceiling. Keeping eye contact with the child, Ben dropped it into the trashcan just next to the door.  

_Go ahead and jump_

      “This is the second time this week, Kevin, and we only just started the fourth quarter,” he snarled, “If I find any more of this kind of dangerous junk in your hands, you can kiss your swimming tryouts goodbye. Do you understand?”

_Might as well jump_

      Ben had to hand it to the kid, he kept up the bravado longer than most. Eventually though, Kevin’s head drooped, and, shuffling his feet, he mumbled a quiet, “Yeah.”

_Go ahead and jump_

      “Good,” Krupp planted a hand firmly between his shoulder blades and steered him back into the flow of students,“Then get going.”

_Jump_

      In an instant, the child was gone, swallowed by the mob of screaming students. Ben cast one last glance into the trashcan to make sure the makeshift slingshot hadn’t disappeared while he wasn’t looking and wondered for a moment- just one- if maybe once the halls were empty and after he had settled the shouting of the teachers, he could fish it out of the trash and enact revenge upon the pigeon. He’d never tell Kevin this, but the kid made good slingshots, and pea shooters, and little paper ninja throwing stars. There was a sense of dedicated craftsmanship in the work produced.

_Jump_

      The only issues Ben ever had with it was that it was unfortunately coupled with an absolute lack of interest in academics and the fact that, oftentimes, Kevin’s arts-and-crafts projects ended up being used to target the back of his head.

_Jump_

      Perhaps though, and he chewed his tongue as he did quick math, eyes squinting and scanning the student body once more, if it had been proven that one of those contraptions could bean him from five feet, then with a little extra support to the handle and a better rubber band, he might be able to hit the bird. Sure, it was about three times the distance away, but he was a good shot. If nothing else, he could startle it to move and stop pooping all over his car.

      “I wondered what he needed all that tape for.”

_Jump_

      Whipping around, Ben was ripped from his thoughts only to find himself pinned in place by a familiar wide-eyed stare. As the end of Halen’s song faded out, it was replaced by another. Soon, the halls were swimming once more with a different set of lyrics, and as Edith gave a weak smile, bowing her head a little, Ben felt his pulse skyrocket.

      “He told me it was for a project he forgot he had to do. Sorry,” she mumbled.  

      “Not your fault,” Ben said in a rush, “Not- not your-Hey!” He sidestepped her, pointing down the hall, “What have I told you about bouncy balls! You put that away or I’m going to take it!”

      His voice cracked around the last word, and he had to turn to cough into his shoulder. Eyes watering, he ran a hand across his face before facing Edith once more, “Sorry, ah-”

      “Are you okay?”

      “Me? Oh,” Ben did his best to stand up straighter, “Oh I’m- yeah, it’s just allergies.”

      “Really? So soon? I didn’t realize the pear trees were blooming already.”

      “Yeah- wait,” he looked at her, brow furrowed, “How did you know-?”

      Edith looked away, biting her lip as she shrugged. For a moment, Ben was tempted to press for an answer, but was cut off by a screech from the stairwell. Hissing, he moved through the throng of rushing children towards the stairs and leaned in through the archway.

      “Jennette,” he bellowed, and for a moment, the entire stairwell stilled, “Jenette, if I find any of your rubber spiders, you’re getting detention! Do you understand me? If I find even a leg, you’re in trouble!”

      Grumbling, he moved back to his original spot, not looking at Edith, “Sorry, what were you saying? It’s a little hard to hear.”

      “I wasn’t...saying anything.”

      Ben winced, “Oh, uh-”

      “Well I mean-I did want to- you know that dance tonight-?”

      “Oh my god,” he drug his hands down his face, “What happened now?”

      “Nothing happened, I just-”

      “Are you sure? Because it wouldn’t surprise me if something else went wrong.”

      “...I did hear that Kenny’s going to have to DJ.”

      He groaned, “I don’t even trust that man with an electric toothbrush, but-”

_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody_

      Edith broke into a fit of giggles, one hand wrapping around herself while the other lifted to cover her mouth. Ben clenched his hands behind his back before stretching them, wiggling the fingers and hoping against hope that, if for some unfortunate reason she had to touch them, she wouldn’t realize he had broken out into a sweat.

_I wanna feel the heat with somebody_

      Swallowing, he tried to think of something else to say, but then, once again, he was pulled away, stepping to yell around her and down the hall.

      “Deserie, if you think pulling Kitty’s hair is a good idea, you’ve got another thing coming! If you reach for her braids again, you’re in big trouble!”

_Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_

      Ben leaned back against the doorframe, sighing as he did so before looking back to Edith once again, “Sorry.”

_With somebody who loves me._

      “You don’t have to keep apologizing,” she mumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I know this isn’t the best time to come to you.”

      “Nonono, no, it’s fine, it’s more than fine- um- But yeah, no, the dance…”

_Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_

      Edith perked up then, “Oh, oh right! I was going to ask if you needed me for anything.”

      “You? No,” he shook his head, “That’s- it’ll be fine. I’ll be good.”

_I wanna feel the heat with somebody_

      “If that was the case, you wouldn’t keep sending out those memos.”  

      “Those emails- you pull your weight enough. They’re for other people, not-” He couldn’t look at her, not with her watching him like that, and ended up staring into the depths of the tiling as he continued, “We’re offering snacks, but nothing major, and Tara’s gonna handle that so you don’t have to worry.”

_Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_

      “But- Ben, I want to be there.”

      “Honestly Edith, unless you just want to come with me to- hold on-”

_With somebody who loves me_

      “Justin! Take those paperclips out of your mouth! Yes, right now, come on! Um-”

      “You- You mean it?”

      “What? Justin, I said now! Sorry, it’s a little hard to hear. Again, only if you want to. It’s not going to be fun though, I’m warning you. I’m just gonna be standing around making sure-”

      “I’d love to.”

_I’ve been in love and lost my senses_

      The shift in her tone forced Ben to look at her again. For a moment, he wondered if something was wrong. There was a high colour to her face, rushing up from her neck, across her cheeks, her eyes burning bright against the flush. He was about to ask if, maybe, he wasn’t the only one who was feeling under the weather and suggest she take a seat when her face split into a grin.

_I need a man who will take a chance_

      “I’d- oh jeeze- I’d absolutely love to. Do you want me to meet you here, then?”

_On a love that burns hot enough to last_

      “Uh,” Ben blinked, “Well, yeah. All of the supervising staff-”

      “Then do you want to meet up at the front doors or in the gymnasium?”

_So when the night falls_

      “Well, we need everyone in the gym, so-”

_My lonely heart calls_

      Edith made a sound that could only be called a squeak, hands clasped in front of her as she bounced on her toes, “Okay, then I’ll see you then...then. I’ll be saving a dance for you.”

_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody_

      Caught in a state of mental whiplash, Ben’s mouth hung open, useless, as he tried to process what she was saying, while all around him children kept running, kept screaming, and Whitney Houston continued to belt her notes through the loudspeakers, “I- Do what now?”

_I wanna feel the heat with somebody_

      Edith spun in a circle before she started backing away, “A dance for our date.”

_Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_

      “Date?”

      But she was already halfway down the hall, moving at full speed. Edith paused only to throw him a wave and a call of, “Don’t be late!” before she disappeared down the other stairwell, her laughter echoing across the tilework like warm fingerprints.

_With somebody who loves me_

      Ben stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the space she had just occupied as though he could find some kind of answer as to what had just happened there. It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under his feet, and he couldn’t tell if the feeling in his stomach was dread or, far worse, butterflies, but either way, he felt as though he was going to be sick.

_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody_

      Then, all at once, everything caught up to him.

      “Date?”

_I wanna feel the heat with somebody_

      Ben gripped his face, blind panic seizing him, “Dance? Ah- ha- ho no. Oh nono- nonono. Oh-”

_Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_

      Just then, from the science wing, there was an almighty shatter. Children started screaming, and the flood that had been moving swiftly but smoothly through the hallways turned into absolute pandemonium as tens upon hundreds of frogs joined the ranks of students. They moved like a tidal wave, jumping waist high with all the speed of an oncoming tsunami, reducing the hall to nothing more than a modern rendition of the plagues taking hold of Egypt as children toppled left and right in a vain attempt to get out- get out- get out of the way. They scampered back into classrooms, threw themselves into lockers, and shot down the stairs with all the wanton abandon of sinners in the face of an angry god, leaving Ben in the hallway to suffer the splattering sounds of webbed feet and screeching and more 80’s music, yet he was not alone. Just behind the battalion of frogs, chasing them on, were two familiar figures, one sporting a tie, the other, a horrifically bad haircut.

_With somebody who loves me_

      Ben screamed.

      


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually bounce between perspectives in a chapter, but I couldn't help it. There was too much going on between the two of them to just focus on one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

      There was a long, sordid history between detention and Benjamin Krupp, and it was going to get about forty-five minutes longer if the clock had anything to say about it.

      Even though all he wanted to do at the moment was be in his car and scream.

      Ben held his knees in a vice grip, leaving two perfect sweaty handprints on his pant legs as he took measured breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth.

      How was he even supposed to make sure everything went well with the dance if he was here? And how was he supposed to get ready to actually partake in a dance, a dance meant for elementary school children, a dance chalk full of songs suggested by parents and run past the school board in the hopes that no kid would get any of the antiquated innuendoes? He didn’t even know where to start.

      In through the nose and out through the mouth.

      And he still couldn’t figure out what he said to make her think that he had asked her out, and yet here he was, having apparently asked her out. He asked her out. He asked her out to a dance. He couldn’t dance. You learn that you have no hand-eye-foot-whatever coordination when you’re younger and it’s what makes you get picked last for just about everything, but dancing? Good god, dancing? You might as well have called him a racehorse with a broken leg. You might as well have taken him out back and shot him. At least he wouldn’t feel like this.

      In through the nose and out through the mouth.

      But here he was, and as of right now, he was going to the dance with Edith. It wouldn’t do him good to be found dead in his office chair because he couldn’t remember how to breathe.

      Caught in a tailspin of a downward spiral, Ben didn’t even have the wherewithal to notice the boys had started whispering, watching him from the corner of their eyes with something that looked dangerously like interest.

\---

      Edith turned sideways, looking into the mirror for a moment before she bent at the knee and swung her hips, hands jumping from the right, to the left, then right again. That didn’t look too bad, right? She stood again and brushed the wrinkles from the dress while behind her her radio sung from it’s position on the nightstand.  
      For a moment, Edith hesitated, then, shaking her head, she began the arduous process of getting a hold of the zipper at the back to let herself out of it.

_If we took a holiday_

_took some time to celebrate_

      Standing before her closet, one leg rubbing against the other, Edith drummed her fingers against the door and squinted into the forest of hangers. What had she even worn to her last date? The first one with Ben didn’t count. It had all been so off the cuff and informal. She hadn’t even had time to go home and change out of her uniform.

      Plus, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he hadn’t done that on his own. The handwriting in the card hadn’t even been his. There was a part of her that wondered if he had been just as surprised as she was.

_Just one day out of life_

_It would be, it would be so nice._

      Thinking back, Edith realized quietly she hadn’t been to a dance since high school, and she hadn’t even gone on a date outside of that last one in- well, anyway.

      But then...that last date- it had gone well. He had been so cute and awkward...and sweaty. So very sweaty. Ben had been practically glistening before they even ordered drinks, stuttering and spluttering and acting like an over enthusiastic teenager who still thought hand holding was a mighty big deal.  

      Edith would have laughed then had she not been just as anxious.

_Everybody spread the word_

_We’re gonna have a celebration_

      Though the moment had been cut short, it had been so sweet. He had been so sweet. That was what she held onto as she swallowed against the dryness in her throat and pulled out another dress.

\---

      “So... you look...gooood?”

      Ben blinked, only then noticing George standing to the right of him. It took a few moments for him to process what had been said, but after that, it only took a second for his mood to sour.

      “‘Scuse you bub? What kind of comment was that? You get back in your seat or-”

      “He’s just trying to be helpful,” said Harold, popping up on the opposite side of desk, “I mean, anyone’s got a right to worry when it looks like someone’s about to drown in their own sweat.”

      Ben snarled, slamming his hands down on the desk, “If you two don’t get your keesters back in those seats, so help me god, I’m going to make you clean the undersides of those desks and eat what whatever you find.”  
  
      The boys recoiled as though he had physically threatened them with their lives.

      “We were just trying to help!”

      “That’s cruel and unusual punishment!”

      “I’m calling your bluff, old man! You can make us eat the cafeteria food, but you can’t-”

      “Don’t you dare!” Ben was standing now, looming over the both of them with his teeth bared, “I keep saying- I’m not putting up with this! I will not have this kind of slander in my school, do you hear me? She works very hard and you should all be-be grateful, and-!”

      By the time he realized he had taken the bait, it was too late. Both of the boys were grinning ear to ear as George said, quietly, “We didn’t say ‘she’.”

\---

      Edith swayed back and forth slowly, arms up as if she were holding onto someone while watching the bright orange flowers swing about her knees before she sighed and slipped out of the dress. She was overthinking this, she knew, but it was an unavoidable evil of the circumstances. Something was off. She couldn’t tell if it was the dress, or the music, or the angle of the mirror- it could have been all three- but it didn’t matter. Edith grit her teeth and told herself it was just nerves, that’s all. She just hadn’t done this in...however many years. That didn’t matter though. Everything was going to be fine.

_You can turn this world around_

_And bring back all of those happy days_

      She earned this. She owed it to herself to take her time and do things how she wanted to for once, and what she wanted to do was enjoy the moment.

      When the dress fell to her ankles, Edith wrapped herself in her arms tightly and took a breath, holding it in as she counted backward from ten. It was just nerves that were making her second guess everything. That was it. She wasn’t going to let herself go down that rabbit hole though. If she did that, she’d never get out. It would be another plan canceled, another night spent at home speaking to nobody but the Chinese food delivery person and weeping into her lo mein as she watched North and South, feeling sorry for herself but too terrified to do anything about it.

      Edith wasn’t going to let herself do that.

      Tonight, it was going to be all about her, and Ben, and at least one dance. She wanted to enjoy this. She just wanted to have this and enjoy it.

_Put your troubles down_

_It’s time to celebrate_

\---

      The longer he looked into the boy’s faces, the more it felt as though he had swallowed a bucket of ice. Ben spluttered, red-faced and livid, trying to figure out how to backpedal as fast as physically possible.

      He knew it was too late though. They already caught him squirming.

      “...So is it true?”

      “Did you ask her out to the dance?”

      Ben shut his eyes, but he could not erase the faces of George and Harold staring at him, grinning, “Go sit in your seats.”

      “So you did.”

      “I said-!”

      But the words died in his throat. By the time he had opened his eyes, the boys had shot back into their desks, their faces schooled into what they no doubt thought were blank expressions. Ben could see the cracks though, could see that mischievous glint of theirs, coupled with the way their shoulders shook from trying to contain their laughter.

      It made everything so much worse.  

      “The absolute audacity of the two of you,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “This is why animals eat their young.”

      “We just wanted to ask, that was all!” George said while Harold shot him a panicked look.

      “An extra week of detention, for both of you. I can’t believe-”

      “No!” Harold leaned forward as if to emphasize his point, “Come on! We’re happy for you!”

      “Ms. Edith is a nice lady- we like her!

      “Are we not allowed to be happy for you? What gives?”

      A thousand thoughts seemed to attempt to jam their way out of Ben’s mouth all at once, resulting in nothing but faint gurgling sound as he stared bug-eyed at the two boys.

      In the pause, Harold turned to George and said quietly, just under the din of the air conditioner so their principal could not hear them, “Though I still can’t figure out why she likes him.”   

\---

      Edith shuffled in place, kicking the dress out from under her feet with venom when she paused.

      This was stupid.

      She looked at herself in the mirror and chewed her tongue, hands gripping her elbows tightly as she struggled to breathe.

      It was just a middle school dance. It was just a stupid 80’s themed middle school dance. It didn’t matter. There was no reason for her to be shaking like this, hyperventilating like this. It wasn’t fair- she just wanted one night. She was just trying to go to have a good time and watch Ben freak out and micromanage everything while Kenny broke the audio system and Tara yelled at kids for taking too much water. Maybe dance. Maybe not.

      She couldn’t dance anyway.

      It would have been good if she thought about that before she said yes.

      What had happened to her? She had been so excited, and she had been so much less anxious when she went out last time in her work clothes.

_Let love shine and we will find a way to come together_

_And make things better._

      Because it wasn’t the clothes.

      And Edith knew that.

      It was just now, now that she was left with her thoughts, now that she felt the weight of her hopes pressing down upon her...she was afraid.

_We need a holiday._

      ...But she knew that was a stupid thing to feel.

      Edith took a deep breath, looking herself dead in the eye as she let it out slowly between her teeth. Being afraid was dumb. That had been proven over and over and over again. The night might not end up like she dreamed, but that didn’t mean it was going to be bad, nor would that mean that it was her fault it didn’t turn out like she hoped it might.

      She was going to have a good time, dang it. She could show up in a hotdog costume and have a good time. Others had done plenty worse anyway. In fact, she remembered one time when Ben told her all the kids showed up with underwear on their heads, just because.

      The bar of expectations was set so low. It was just her that was working this up- she knew it. She absolutely knew it.

      Nodding to herself, she moved back to her closet. The next thing she pulled out would be what she wore- no exceptions.

      It had to be. She had to get dressed and get out before she changed her mind.

\---

      “Do you even know how to dance?”

      Ben shook his head, though it was less in answer and more as a means to snap himself out of the shock. The boys frowned, and before Ben could say much about it, George was already digging through his backpack as Harold started walking towards the desk.

      “You’re lucky,” said Harold, tilting backward so he could look down his nose at Ben, “My mom’s been letting George and me borrow her dance class tapes. We can teach you the moonwalk-”

      “The robot-”

      “That one leg one-”

      “The two square ones-”

      “We’ve got options.”

      “And we’ll help you learn, but you’ll owe us. You’ll owe us big time.”

      For a moment, Ben wanted to laugh, until it clicked what was going on as Harold continued, “George? Music.”

      “W-wait-”

      But Harold had already started, his feet moving in a pattern that might as well have been black magic to Ben just as George pulled out a cassette player, made eye contact, and hit the fat red button.

_Knocking me out with those American thighs_

      Ben made a sound akin to that of a dying whale

_Taking more than her share, she had me fighting for air_

      Moving faster than he had in years, he raced around his desk towards George.

_She told me to come, but I was already-_

      “No!” Ben snatched the cassette player from the boy’s hands, “Love of god, not that song!”

      “Why?” said Harold.

      Ben froze.

      Looking between George and Harold’s curious stares, his mouth went dry as his heart threatened to beat itself out of his chest and go running for the nearest bridge.

      “Um,” he licked his lips, “It’s-...it’s about…”

      He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

      “...A chicken recipe. Chicken thigh recipe. ”  

     The boys kept looking at him, and he kept begging to be ripped out of existence.

      “And...I’m... on a diet.”

      “Oooh,” said George, giving him a sympathetic look even while he wheedled the tape player out of Ben’s vice grip, “Like that pally-o caveman diet?”

      “Oh my mom made us go on that too, once your mom told her about it.” Harold nodded, “It’s awful. She tried to make it sound cool, but it’s not.”

      “I hated it.”

      “I wasn’t even allowed to draw on the walls.”

      “I missed hot dogs.”

      “We’re sorry about your chicken.”  

      Ben deflated, wheezing as he leaned against a desk and begged for this detention to end.

\---

      “Okay,” Edith muttered, looking at herself in the mirror, “Okay...okay.”

      When she said she would wear the next thing that came out of her closet, she didn’t have this in mind. Something floral, she thought, in complementary colours, or very much antiquated and smelling of someone else's attic. Something distinctly...not this decade. It was an 80’s themed dance, after all, and she had plenty of old clothes in here.

      Instead, she found herself looking at a green and glittering mass of fabric held together by a sweetheart neckline on one end and a black crinoline underskirt on the other. It was one of those things she distinctly remembered buying from the Salvation Army because she thought it would look cute on her, lost faith midway through the purchase, lied to the cashier by saying it was for her nonexistent niece’s 8th grade dance, road the bus home red-faced and nervous, and finally made it home only to throw it into her closet and try to never think about it again.

      Doing an experimental twirl, Edith couldn’t help but compare herself to a Wizard of Oz extra.

      But, she conceded, she did still think she looked cute.

      Edith tapped her shoulders, tongue poking out as she felt her own goosebumps prickle across her skin. She darted back to the bathroom and pulled from the top of the laundry bin a small black knit shrug.

      Edith smelled it, paused, smelled it again, then sprayed it down with lysol before putting it on.

      There.

      Perfect.

      Not so hard.  

      As an afterthought, she dug about the drawer under her sink before pulling out a barrette, onto which had been affixed a large, black bow. Edith pulled her hair back, paused, and then, chewing the corner of her lip, pinned it in place before straightening the whole ordeal.

      Good, and since she had only one pair of black heels, she was, effectively, done.

      Grabbing them and her purse, Edith rushed out the door before she could convince herself not to.

\---

      “I don’t want any help.”

      “But-”

      “No!” Ben threw his arms into the air, staring incredulously at the boys, “No! The answer is no! I don’t want any help! I don’t need any help! Where did you even- you’re 9!”

      George frowned, “9.75, but-”

      “I’m not going to be taught how to dance by 9-year old!”

       “He’s 9.75, I’m 10 though,” said Harold.

      “It doesn’t matter! The point is no!” Ben was getting shrill by this point, his hands in tight fists on either side of his head. Had he any hair left, he would have ripped it out.

      “Krupp, come on.”

      “It’s okay to admit you need a hand.”

      “We’ve got a co-mo-ditty, you’ve got a need,” said George, arms outstretched as though he were trying to be benevolent, “That’s it. We’re just being nice.”

      “That’s really it.”

      “We’d just like, you know, to not be in detention. As payment for being nice.”

      “So if we helped you learn how to dance, you’d let us go, right? You’d let us off the hook?” Harold was bouncing on his toes as he said this, “It’s just- there’s a new episode of Samurai Jack on tonight and-”

      Ben lost it.

      “Out!” he grabbed both boys by the scruff of their shirts, practically dragging them towards the door, “Get out! Get out now! I don’t- I can’t- just get out!”

      “But our-!”

      Ben all but tossed the two into the hall, whipping around and storming back into the room only to return and thrust their bookbags into their arms. Snarling, breathing heavy, he towered over them, pointing towards the exit as he screamed one last time, “Now get out!”

      The boys had vanished before he even got the second word out. In the echoing silence of the hall, Ben slumped against the door frame, his face in his hands.

      There was only half an hour left to go before he had to go back upstairs and help prep. That wasn’t going to be enough time for him to prepare himself to let her down.  


End file.
